


Solitude and Longing

by Altraya



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 15:44:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20260537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altraya/pseuds/Altraya
Summary: Lunafreya's training to keep up her mental constitution includes stretches of time spent all alone. Time which she takes to unburden herself of the sorrows she cannot express in front of others. For the Lunoct Discord's monthly prompts: Longing.





	Solitude and Longing

Lunafreya stared at blank white walls which seemed to reflect the lighting into her face. The room was sparsely furnished, with just a white bedroll with a white linen sheet, a white table with a clear glass pitcher and cup for her water. Water, which was the only thing to pass her lips in three days. Water which had been gathered from a stream and boiled, water carrying the tang of the copper vessel that had helped to make it potable. She had no windows and no company. A dumbwaiter woke her each morning, the grinding sound alerting her that her day's water had arrived. Food arrived with it, and she sent it back untouched each day. She was fasting, and the food was there in case she had caught suddenly ill. No one was to check on her, but if she ate a meal, that would be the sign that it was time to take her from the room she was locked within.

She was there of her own free will, and it wasn't even the most arduous of things she had ever needed to face. The first few days of isolation were almost welcome, in fact. No one to look at her with expressions mixed with pain and anger for their losses, and their guilt that they wanted to yell at her. She wished that they would, sometimes. That they would let out their anger for their losses. She wished she could carry that pain of theirs, but instead she bore their silent contempt.

No one from Niflheim was there to abuse her. Not even her own brother, who sometimes took to dragging her about the manor to ensure she didn't leave on a fool's errand. She knew he did it for her protection, but that knowledge did little to assuage the the fear and pain of taking such from her own kin.

Most importantly, no one was there to see her cry. She could unleash her anguish during these times of solitude. The isolation was meant to train her mind and constitution, and indeed it did. But the first few days were such a blessed reprieve. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks as she stared at blank walls and contemplated her life. Her loneliness.

Her love.

She looked down, her hands clasped tight before her chest. It was something of a nervous gesture, looking sweet and pious to hold her hands so, to bow her head. What it hid was the trembling of those hands. Bowing her head hid the quivering of her lips.

Solitude hid the tears that now dripped onto her slim fingers.

She wept, quietly, with no one to see her tears. No one to wipe them away. Gentiana often did so for her, especially since her mother's violent death and the nightmares that had followed. She had a perverse desire for it to be the gentle hands of Noctis to wipe her tears. Perverse, for it was also the very last thing she wanted. How desperately she wanted to be able to sink into his arms and weep. Would his arms be slender and frail, as they had been as children? Or would they be strong, as she knew he had been training, knew it from their letters and the pictures she saw of him. She knew that whatever they were, warmth and tenderness would be on the list. And she wanted so desperately to be able to weep with him for all that had been stolen from them.

But she had to be strong. For the world, which needed an Oracle. For herself, in order to keep walking forward and not get trapped in time and anguish. And for him, who needed a guiding light in order to face what destiny had set before them.

How desperately she wanted to be able to enjoy the rewards of such a destiny with him. One covenant was enough to make it clear how vain that wish was, however. She knew she would have to sacrifice herself for him to have the power to complete his destiny. Not today, or next week, or even next month. But soon. In the next few years.

"Please," she whispered, her voice broken from disuse. "Please," she repeated, her voice even weaker, trembling, fresh tears dripping from her cheeks onto her clasped hands. "Let fate be kind. Let us have some time to relive the happiness of our youths, before we must say goodbye again. Let us have another hello. Please," she whispered again, her voice cracking, and she hunched over, giving into the despair that always clung to her, letting it have its release here, in absolute solitude, where no one could see the proud and strong Oracle weep.


End file.
